


an arm and a leg

by epicmoonintensifies



Category: RWBY
Genre: Amputee Reader, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27116614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epicmoonintensifies/pseuds/epicmoonintensifies
Summary: Mercury Black was… a character. And a sociopath, you were pretty sure. But there was something different about him now. Or, you supposed, maybe there was something different about you.(Maybe it was the missing arm?)(Yeah, probably.)
Relationships: Mercury Black/Reader
Kudos: 15





	an arm and a leg

Losing your arm was like… well. Like losing an arm. There really wasn’t anything else you could compare it to. And the worst part wasn’t the jarring wrongness of missing a limb, although that was bad. It wasn’t the way people would glance at you and then pointedly look away, overcompensating in their attempt to be polite and not stare. It wasn’t the way you were constantly off-balance and relearning how to remain upright in awkward positions. No. The worst part was how useless you felt.

Putting your hair up. Changing your clothes. Reading a book. Making a sandwich. All of these basic, everyday activities were suddenly like rocket science combined with gymnastics. Everything was a challenge, and sometimes your inability to even pick something up without struggling made people look at you like you were stupid ( _I’m not stupid_ ), and you wanted to say, “Hey, you try it with just one arm!” to everybody you even walked past, because _every **single**_ one of them–

Or, almost every single one.

Mercury Black was… a character. And a sociopath, you were pretty sure, but you weren’t one of those idiots who thought emotionally manipulative, mentally ill people were attractive, so you usually kept a safe distance from him. Not out of fear, but something more like healthy respect, the same way one walk _around_ a calm but potentially dangerous snake instead of being stupid enough to step _over_ it. There was _probably_ something wrong with him and it wasn’t his fault, but that didn’t mean he was a victimized little baby for you to try to coddle or play nice with. But there was something different about him now. Or, you supposed, maybe there was something different about you.

(Maybe it was the missing arm?)

(Yeah, probably.)

He didn’t look away from you like noticing a missing limb was rude, or look at you like you were stupid when you couldn’t do something that would have been simple with two hands, which sure felt amazing. But he also didn’t bother being polite, either. Which should’ve ticked you off, but, hey- everybody was just a bit too polite around you these days. You were up for a little rudeness, as long as it was the truth and not a bunch of pandering.

So. You started talking to him. And that was how you ended up making friends with the weirdest jerk you had ever met in your life.

Getting the prosthetic was such an easy decision. You wanted to slap people who were so on edge about it. “You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” your gluteus maximus. “You can wait to make a decision if you’re not sure, you don’t have to decide right now,” was a personal favorite of yours. “If you don’t like it, no one will force you to wear it,” really made you crack up, because, _seriously_. You had lost your arm to a giant monster, and you had still won the fight. In what universe did _any_ of these people think that any single _one_ of them could force you to do _anything_?

So, yes, you got the weird robot arm.

“Cool!” Mercury said, grinning. As much as he ever did grin or smile at all, anyway. He always seemed to smile thinly, like he was being sly and trying to show you how sharp his teeth were without actually opening his mouth. (They were sharp.)

“It _is_ cool,” you agreed, playfully poking him with your new arm. He poked you back, you jostled him, and it quickly escalated into an all-out fight.

He won. Kind of. You were pretty sure that him kicking you with metal legs was cheating, since you were holding back from breaking his face with your metal fist. But, then again, he refrained from breaking your ankles with _his_ ankles, so maybe it was as fair as the two of you could be.

You and Mercury sat side by side, both sporting serious bruises from the play-fight.

After getting to know Mercury, you were… less sure that he was a sociopath. Messed up in the head? Definitely. This kid needed help. But, a certifiable sociopath? Maybe. Maybe not. Or maybe he was just manipulating you, in which case, he was doing an alright job, but he wasn’t going to get anything out of it, because no matter how much nicer he seemed, he was still dangerous, and you weren’t going to give him an edge.

Well. Maybe for just one day, you could pretend this was normal.

“Merc,” you said, “what do you want to do with your life?”

Mercury grimaced.

Oh, yeah, sure, _normal_.

_Nice going._

“I have a… job…” He looked pained just saying it. You wanted to take your question back, but at the same time… this was your chance to get to know him, right? “My employers are into some weird stuff, but they paid for my legs and let me beat people up, so I didn’t care about their weird stuff before, but now it’s getting _really_ weird.”

You had no idea what to say to that, other than, “Yikes.”

Mercury snorted. “Yeah, same. I, uh… I thought that was what I wanted to do. Fight all the time. But maybe not. Not if it means all this weird stuff.”

 _I think it sounds like you joined a cult, Merc,_ popped into your brain, but you knew better than to voice that particular thought. Along with, _What exactly does 'weird' entail?_ and, _Maybe you should quit your job and get some therapy._

But then, after a long silence that led you to believe _that_ mistake of a conversation starter had died out, Mercury spoke, and it started all over again.

“Do you know what’s wrong with me?” he asked.

You side-eyed him skeptically. “Other than being a double amputee, you mean? Because that’s not exactly a _flaw_ , especially with the badass prosthetics…”

“No. I mean with…” He tapped the side of his head and smiled grimly.

 _Oh._ You shrugged, not wanting to mention your suspicion that he was a sociopath. “You’ve been through a lot. It messes with your head.“

He shrugged. "I guess. But… when you lost your arm…”

You cocked a brow at him. “What about it?”

“You’re stronger than me.”

 _Am not_ , you wanted to say, but you didn’t.

“After I lost my legs....” He was angry, you realized, and if became even more obvious by the hate in his voice as he continued to speak, “I went to the first people who dangled a carrot in front of me. And now I think they sort of own me. I just…”

You felt some tension in your chest ease as you realized what Mercury was trying to say. “You want out.”

“Maybe.” Mercury shrugged. "You lost your arm, and you didn’t let anybody mess with you or baby you or anything. I lost my legs and I let them turn me into their dog.“

_Holy Oum, he’s not messing around._

"I’m getting out,” he said, determination hardening his voice. He looked over at you and set his hand… on… yours. “I’m… I’m gonna be like you.”

He squeezed your hand, perhaps to suggest intimacy where there wasn’t any or perhaps looking for some physical support. And so, maybe against your better judgment, you squeezed back.

“I’ll help.”


End file.
